Untitled Death
by RandomGreekWoman
Summary: Germany just wanted to come home and relax, not find his home destroyed and his brother in the basement, torn apart...but who killed him? Grimdark, bloodshed, not for people who love Prussia, short chapters, but gory descriptions.
1. Prussia

Germany sighed. He was beat from a hard day's work, and was looking forward to coming home and relaxing.

He opened the door, and immediately brought a hand to his nose and wrinkling his face from the disgusting smell in his home. "What the fuck?" he muttered, noticing that his three dogs didn't greet him as usual. He opened his eyes wide, panic rising in his throat as he noticed a trail of blood on the carpet, and gasped when he saw the rubble of furniture in the family room, with desks flipped over and the red velvet curtains torn off, the windows broken and shards of glass littered around the room. He saw the broken body of a dog near the kitchen, and raced towards it, but kicked it out of the way when he saw the blood spattered all over the white walls.

"GILBERT!" he screeched, grabbing his blonde hair and clumps and pulling on it, his knees shaking and his eyes watering from the pain. He looked around and found another of his dogs shoved lazily into a boiling pot of water, the stream rising and filling the room with a disgusting damp scent. The pots and pans had been thrown onto the ground, dented and broken, large blood puddles flooding the title ground. "Fuck, no!" Ludwig groaned, his shoulder sagging, felling hot tears streak down his usually monotone face. He raced downstairs into the basement, and flipped the switch.

He screamed in agony after stepping onto an organ, an intestine of some sort. Millions of them were thrown around the room at random. He cried, finally ripping out a clump of hair in a firm fist, blood cascading down the side of his face. He screamed even louder at the searing pain in his head, it was the worst feeling he ever had. He threw half of his scalp down and collapsed against the stone basement wall, gasping in horror at the sight in front of him.

It was Gilbert, but someone had sawed off his arms, leaving strings of flesh holding onto the stubs of his arms. From the mid-back down someone had stripped him clean of his flesh, leaving only his crimson-stained spine behind. One of his eyes had been gorged out, leaving an empty eye-socket behind. His hair was specked with blood droplets, and his back was caked with thick chunks of his flesh and blood. His large intestine was strewn around him like mock versions of snakes, slithering around, readying to strike at the German and take him next. As Germany stared at the corpse of his older brother, his lungs gasping for air, his vocal chords aflame, his head pounding and bleeding, he opened his mouth wide when Gilbert's corpse raised its head slightly and mumbled something inaudible at him.

"What?" Germany asked, his stomach turning as Prussia raised his head and managed to choke out: "I'm sorry." before his head being stomped upon by a large rubber boot. Germany's ice blue gaze floated up the boot, then to the blood-stained leg, then to a large torso, then, in his utter confusion and shock…


	2. Sweden's ending

"What?" Germany asked, his stomach turning as Prussia raised his head and managed to choke out: "I'm sorry." before his head being stomped upon by a large foot. Germany's ice blue gaze floated up the foot, then to the blood-stained leg, then to a large torso, then, in his utter confusion and shock…

It was Sweden!

The Swede narrowed his navy eyes, staring down at the German in front of him. He growled, lifting up his foot from Gilbert's smashed in skull.

He had a black top hat on, titled so it covered his eyes. His usually clean glasses were splattered with blood, and his hair was messy, streaked with thick rivers of blood. He had a black magician's cape on that reached his heels, and his hands were covered with white gloves that were stained crimson from his massacres, and he had a walking stick with him. His shoes were fancy, but had cleats on the soles. His ripped black dress pants exposed love bites or bruises or something.

"Germany..." he mumbled. The German's vision was suddenly going haywire as Sweden hit him in the head with his walking stick and slashed his forehead open, a waterfall of red blocking Germany's view of Sweden. "Sorry for your loss." Sweden snarled, stabbing him directly in the heart with a knife that he had. Germany gasped, then fell to the ground, his eyes glazing over, his mouth twisted open with a thin trail of blood and spit coming from his mouth.


	3. Russia's engling

"Kolkolkol!" Russia giggled, winking a violet eye at Germany. Ludwig pushed himself up, panting, feeling dizzy. He saw three Russias holding bloody crowbars and having an intestine slung over their shoulders. Germany tried throwing a punch, but the Russias slapped him. He flew against the wall, his sensitive scalp smarting as it hit the bloody, cold basement wall. He screamed as he sunk back down in a sitting position again, tears falling down his face, utter confusion and rage in his navy eyes.

"Das…das blot." He muttered, wiping away a tear and looking at the Russias jumping rope with Prussia's entrails, the blood flickering on his face, drenching him in dark crimson. He felt weak, and fell onto one side as he heard a lively Russian voice sing a twisted jump rope song.

Germany vomited, the sick mixture of yellow and green mixing with the blood on the ground. The mass of bone and organs that was his brother was staring at him with one large, red eyes.

He soon died of blood loss.


End file.
